


Mermaids Den

by Evaonix164 (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Biting, Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Light Masochism, Light Smut, Multi, Oral Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Wing Kink, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 12:00:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7933837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Evaonix164
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The body count keeps climbing higher and higher and the only lead you guys have hints toward a...mermaid?</p><p>Somethings seriously off about this..</p><p>When Castiel and you end up being drug into the mermaids den, only then do you realize how wrong things actually are.<br/>-softcore smut, for now-</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter centers mostly around Cas. Next chapter will have amazing threesome sexyness~ Kind of important for plot, but if you REALLY want, you can skip.
> 
> A/N: If I forgot any warnings, please let me know, I'm here for you to enjoy my writing, not be mentally scarred by it. So, that being said... enjoy!

  
“Are you sure this is what we're dealing with here?” The question is a dull repetition. Dean turns to look at you, brow raised, and repeats exactly what he'd said the last three or so times you've asked.  
  
“A few locals say they see a hot babe swimming 'round the lake at night, meanwhile bodies keep piling up along the shore. Makes sense to me.”  
  
“But a _Mermaid_? Look, see? Right here, it says they're only found in salt water.” You point to the barely legible paragraph in the journal. “In case you forgot, that translates roughly to 'they can only live in the ocean,' this,” you point to the body of water behind you, “this is a lake.”   
  
While, the body count keeps climbing higher and higher, Sam, Dean, and yourself have all been desperately trying to decipher the old journal for almost a week now. Between the weathered print and scratchy handwriting, though, it's proving more difficult than one might think. Mermaids would make sense if they could live in fresh water, or, hell, were known for killing, but neither of those coincide with what the journal is saying.

 

There has to be something one of you is missing, you know there is, but trying to talk Dean down is about as useful as trying to teaching a walrus to talk. But still...  
  


“I dunno, my guts just telling me somethings off. Compared to you guys I may be new to this hunting thing, but I can't shake this feeling that something else is up.”  
  
“You might be new to the life, but you've got rule number one down, which is more than you can say about most newbies” Sam stretches out then goes back to scouring the internet.  
  
“Rule number one? What's rule number one?” You peek over his shoulder and see a page describing how to kill a mermaid. More of a forum than an actual informative site, judging by the text sprawled across the screen.   
  
“Rule number one is is always trust your instinct.” Sam backs out of the site, then clicks on another link titled “Mermaid Folklore: 101.”  
  
“I always thought the number one rule is don't die?”  
  
“That's rule number one, two-point-O” This time it's Dean who answers your question. “Find anything useful Sammy?” He comes to the passenger side of the impala and stands next to you to get a better look at the screen. The heat of his body sends a warm shiver down your spine and you're faintly aware of the scent of his scent – musky, sweet, and a hint of sweat mixed in from the humid evening.  
  
“Not a thing. You're sure there was nothing in the Men of Letters library on merpeople? I mean, we've found info on monsters even we haven't heard of before, but not a thing about mermaids? That's like the first thing that comes to mind when you say 'mythological creature.” Sam shuts his laptop in frustration and throws his hands up. “The only reoccurring theme is a bronze blade to the heart. Other methods are prayer, taking it out of the water, beheading, and cutting off it's hair,” he lets out a long breath and shakes his head, “seems like a blade to the heart and lobbing off it's head would be the best two choices.”  
  
“Well, unless anyone else has any better ideas,” Dean looks you both in the eye, waiting for confirmation.   
  
May as well try one last time.  
  
“I really think we should do a stake-out, try and see if we could actually get a glimpse of this thing before running head long in.” He opens his mouth, as if he's about to argue, so you add quickly, “Dean, it's not that I don't trust you, it's- I don't want us to just go in guns blazing and get our asses beat- or worse.”  
  
He looks at you, like really looks at you as he runs a hand through his hair and down to his neck. “Listen, I know we're out on a limb here, but we all heard what the sheriff said earlier, the last vic was only eleven years old. I can't let that-”  
  
“She's probably right, Dean,” a familiar, gruff voice cuts him off. The three of you turn to see Castiel making his way to the impala.“Merpeoples numbers have been dwindling for thousands of years, so they try to stray away from human interaction.” Your heart starts to pick up it's pace as he closes the distance, and you can't help the smile that tugs on the corners of your mouth.  
  
It's been God knows how long since the three of you have heard anything from Cas. Six, seven months? Something crazy like that. When those two men are within eyesight's distance your brain has this annoying habit of not working properly.  
  
Like, for instance, when Dean walks up to the other man and gives him strong pat on the shoulder, then brings him in for a hug, it's like your mind just shuts down. Drops everything it's doing and focuses on the two men in front of you, paying painfully close attention to the spots their bodies touch.   
  
In fact, it sends all sorts of images spiraling into your head; their naked bodies grinding against each other, their mouths joined together in a fight for dominance, breaking apart just long enough for Dean to say-  
  
“You okay over there?”   
  


Shit. Say something.  
  
“Yeah, sorry. Just...thinking.” 'Thinking' is definitely a nicer way to put it than 'imagining you two fucking _.'_ Jeez, what's wrong with you? _  
  
_ Dean clears his throat and mutters a quick “It's good to have you back, Cas,” before going back to check up on Sam, leaving the two of you alone, staring at one another.

 

“It's good to see you again.” He smiles as he passes you, making direct eye contact. That small gesture that most wouldn't even notice has your heart pounding in your ears and the only thing you can do in return is smile and nod. It's been so long since you've heard of him, you're not really sure what else to say.  
  
The memories of that night come flickering back. The last time you saw Cas. He just left with nothing more than saying he had some business to take care of. You and Dean had decided it was a good idea to get hammered afterward, and you had no complaints.  
  
_It was a long night of drinking and you were ready to hit the hay. Sam had already gone up to his room about an hour before hand, leaving just you and Dean to bullshit together._

 

_“Well, I'm about to call it quits. Think I'll have one more, ya know, for good dreams or whatever.” You grabbed another cold one out of the fridge._

 

_“Sounds like a plan, grab me one too, will ya?” Deans voice had a slur to it. For about the eighth time that night, you found yourself almost telling him how cute his alcohol induced blush was, and that's how you'd known you'd had enough. 'Drunk minds speak sober thoughts,' or some bullshit like that.  
  
You tossed him another beer and took your spot next to him on the sofa to crack open the can. A second crack sounded off as Dean did the same. “To Cas?” You'd lifted your can up, and they made a soft tink as they met.  
  
“To Cas,” He had agreed. You both drank your last beer before you headed up to your room.  
  
It wasn't until about twenty minutes later that you'd heard Dean stumbling through the hall above you, making his way to his room, when you'd heard a loud crash.   
  
Shit, the poor drunk bastard probably tripped under his own two feet. If you were honest, the excuse to see him was more the reason you even got out of bed than to actually be a good friend and help him, but still.  
  
As you were about to round the corner, you caught the first bits of his sentence.   
  
“Dammit Cas...gotta...need.” Wait, what? You'd tip-toed as close to the corner as you could and peeked around it. Sure enough, Dean was sitting in front of his room, his back leaning against the door frame. He had something in his hand though, and it looked like a shirt you'd seen Cas wearing a few days earlier.  
  
You only got the last bits of it all, but it was enough. “...gotta come back soon, Cas. Don't know what I'll do without ya'.” Had he been praying to Cas?  
  
No, Dean never bothered him unless he really needed help. And the shirt...were Dean and Cas seeing each other?   
  
Maybe, but wouldn't you know if they were...? And something about the way he was talking...was it possible Dean had a thing for Cas too?_

_  
_ Ever since that night you'd been asking yourself that same question, but it wasn't like you could just go up to him and ask, he'd deny it and that would leave you feeling like the awkward one. _  
_  
Shaking your head, you turn around and jog up the short hill where the Impala is parked, just in time to catch the back and forth.  
  
“Cas, I don't have time for guesses, people are dying faster than they can dig the graves. Hell, even kids are starting to show up dead. If you've got a good reason for what you're about to say, then I'll hear it out, otherwise, we gotta get into action.” Harsh words, for sure, but you all know it's the guilt and helplessness speaking.  
  
“There's a few options we have. Luckily enough, what kills merpeople will also kill most other aquatic creatures. It's the approach that we have to plan out. Some are stronger than others by margins that would surprise you, and that's what we have to worry about.”  
  
“Cas has a point, Dean.” Sam adds in. “I think we need to bring some extra ammo. I mean we don't have all that much to go on other than guesses, and if what Cas says is true, than we need some extra protection.” If Dean would listen to anyone, it would be Sam. One look into those big brown eyes and you can see his resolve start to shake.  
  
And then crumble.  
  
“Fine.”  
  
\---------------  
  
Turns out Deans idea of protection is a rope.   
  
A rope that's tied around a tree, yes, but a rope nonetheless. His plan is a pretty decent one; albeit simple. Since the lake is about half a mile round, he decided it would be best if you all split in groups of two to cover more ground, which is a good plan so far, but here comes the simple part; Tie a rope around a tree, then tie said rope around yourself, wade knee deep in a lake, and wait.   
  
So here you are, knee deep in a lake freezing your ass off, waiting for Deans mermaid to decide it's time for a midnight snack.

 

There was a bright side though.

 

Cas switches his weight to his other leg, making the water around your calves ripple softly.   
  
Part of you wishes Dean could be on the other side of you, but hey, you'll take what you can get.   
  
“So if it _is_ a Mermaid, what exactly are we dealing with?”

  
“Nothing extraordinary. They heal quickly, hard to catch, and are very good at hiding, but other than that, they bleed like the rest of us.”  
  
“I thought they just spend their time underwater minding their own business though, not sucking people dry?” Looks like Disney's got some major kinks to work out.  
  
“Merpeople usually feed on aquatic life yes, but there have been cases of ones that would feed on human blood. If memory serves me correctly, however, that would usually sustain them for weeks, maybe months.”

  
“But bodies have been popping up every night, sometimes two. If what you're saying is true, then there should only be one or two at most, but the body counts almost in the double digits. Do you think it's killing for the hell of it?”  
  
“That's a possibility, but-” his lips are drawn in a tight line.  
  
“Buuuut?” You ask after a moments passed without a reply.  
  
“It doesn't make sense, even the rogues try to avoid being seen. They're smart, they know the dangers of a curious human. From all the sightings, I would have to assume it wants to be seen.” There's another long pause.  
  
“Maybe it pissed, I mean-”  
  
“Any signs of Ariel yet?” Deans voice crackles through the radio, interrupting you. You take it off it's holster and press the button to speak.  
  
“Zilch, how 'bout you?”  
  
“Nothing on our end either, but I'll tell you one thing, at this rate my ass is gonna freeze off before we catch this thing.”  
  
“You're a big boy, Dean. You'll make it.”   
  
“I'm glad at least one of us is sure. Give me a call if you hear anything, kid. Over and out.” The radio cracks one more time, and not long after Cas speaks up.  
  
“There's-” he pauses to gather his words, “I didn't notice it until a short while ago, but I sense an energy. It's barely here, so much so that at first I thought it wasn't worth mentioning, but what you just said, about it being angry, feels right. It makes sense”  
  
“Soooo you think I'm right?”  
  
“It's possible, yes. There's more though.” He licks his lips and your heart does this weird _tha-thump_ kind of thing. “It was only for a second, but it interfered with my grace. Only slightly, but I felt it weaken.”  
  
“Should I radio for Sam and Dean?” Whatever it is, it has to be big to mess with an angels grace.

 

“It's not enough to cause worry. It's like an interference on a radio, like static. Whatever it is, though, it's not a mermaid, and I think we're safe for now. Just be on guard.” He furrows his brows in thought, but doesn't say anything else.   
  
As the quiet of the night sets back in, you can't help but to steal a glance out of the corner of your eye at the man beside you, and god dammit, is it worth it. The moonlight casts a soft glow on his otherwise silhouetted frame, outlining the curve of his neck, and the bob of his adams apple. Even his eyes seem transformed by the moonlight, giving them a sultry, almost predatory glare. You want nothing more than to be the subject of that gaze, and whats stopping you?

 

With just a few short steps, you could reach out and take it.   
  
The water ripples again as Cas shifts his weight, something he's been doing a lot recently. His constant fidgeting over the last hour or so has brought him within arms reach. It would be so god damn easy to just turn and bury yourself in his arms, where the cold bite of the wind wouldn't be able to touch you. You can picture it so clearly that you feel his warmth surrounding you, like an electric field lighting up your body.   
  
The tendrils of heat from your cheeks make their way south, into your groin, causing you to let out a low whimper as a shiver climbs up your body. You spare a glance, hoping he didn't notice, only to see him already looking at you.  
  
“Are you cold?” He asks in the innocent way only he can.   
  
“Oh, um, a little, yeah. No biggie though, no one said a hunters job is a cushie one.” You turn your head away, trying to hide the blush flaring on your face. Damn, he makes it hard to keep your cool. You're used to hiding your feelings around Dean, but being away from Cas so long has you out of practice.  
  
As you try to calm your beating heart, you decide to steal one last glance, and swear, that for a split second, a smug grin is plastered on his face.  
  
\---------------  
  
It didn't seem like whatever it was would be showing up anytime soon, or even at all. It's been almost an hour since either of you had said a word, and other than Sam and Dean occasionally checking in, it's been quiet.   
  
“Okay, I can't hold it anymore. I gotta pee. You gonna be okay for a minute?” You wait until he nods before you make your way to the shore, and almost fall over once you step foot on dry land. Your legs feel so freakin' wobbly after standing in the water for god knows how long that it makes it hard to stand. It had to be closing in on midnight by now, at the very least.   
  
Holding your arms out for balance you make a beeline into the woods and find the nearest bush to relieve yourself.  
  
“We're gonna give it another hour then head out. I don't know about you two, but four hours ass deep in water is four hours too long for us. Well head back to the motel then come back again tomorrow night.” Deans voice comes out so staticky you can barely make out what he's saying.   
  
You pull your pants up and are about to reach for the walkie when Cas yells out your name, followed by a bright flash that momentarily illuminates the forest around you.   
  
Oh fuck.  
  
Deans voice crackles out again, seconds later. “What's going on over there? Where are you two?!”  
  
“I-I don't know, I had to pee.” You break through to the shoreline and stop in your tracks. Cas is no where in sight.   
  
It takes only a split second to make up your mind. “Whatever it is, it's got Cas. I'm going in after him.”   
  
“Don't move, we're already on our way, just-” you ignore Deans warning and take your flashlight in one hand, and the blade in the other. If this thing really is strong enough to mess with Cas' grace, then he needs your help.   
  
As you plunge into the lake, you can't help but notice the water seems colder than it was only minutes ago; almost to the point where it's painful.   
  
You can now hear Sam and Dean calling out for you, but it's too late. You take one last breath, and plunge head first into the frigid waters.  
  
And holy shit is it dark, like darker than dark. The flashlight barely makes a difference, and the deeper you go, the colder it gets.  
  
You couldn't be more than ten feet down and already your skin is all pins and needles. Never mind the discomfort you felt before standing in the water, that was nothing compared to now. It's been less than a minute, but the shivers racking your body make it hard to keep the air from escaping.  
  
You take a minute to shine the light around, looking for any sign of Cas, but the only thing around you is trash; cans, milk cartoons, plastic bags, and...is that a tampon? Ugh, even the water itself feels slimy and gross and you can't help but wonder, what the hell would even _want_ to live down here?   
  
About ten feet lower you stop again to look, knowing that soon you'll have to get back to the surface; drowning yourself won't help anyone. Clenching your fist tighter around the light, and closing your eyes, you pray – hoping he's still conscious enough to hear.  
  
' _Cas, please be safe. Please, I need to know you're okay.'_ As you open your eyes again and shine the light around you realize immediately that somethings off...   
  
At some point, you're not sure when, but everything just...disappeared. The weight of the water, the heaps of trash, even the unbearable cold is just **gone**. You look up toward the surface, and even the light of the moon is no where in sight.   
  


You couldn't have gone that far down, no way. Ten, fifteen feet maybe, but the light should still shine through. You look around, thinking maybe you got turned around, but everywhere you look, there's nothing.

  
Something brushes against your leg, and you gasp, losing precious air. Fucking hell, out of all the stupid things you can do.   
  
As you spin around, ready to face whatevers behind you, it hits you again, knocking the flashlight out of your hand.

 

Your body is already starting to wheeze for air, but without that flashlight, there's no hope of finding Cas in time. Without thinking, you flip yourself over and make a line for the light.  
  
It sinks further and further out of reach and as it tumbles, it illuminates something in the darkness. You can't tell what, but you don't have time to worry about it; You need to grab that light and resurface within the next thirty seconds or things are gonna go south, fast.   
  
Just as you're almost within reach, it happens; your body involuntarily takes a breath. Instead of sweet, fresh air, mucky, polluted, water quickly fills your lungs and it doesn't take long for your chest to feel like it's about to explode.  
  
As spots of black begin to overtake your vision, and your consciousness begins to fade, the last thought you're able to muster is your one most recent regret; ' _Why didn't I just piss in the goddamn lake?'_  
  


 

\-------------------  
  


The overwhelming nausea you feel as you come to makes it almost impossible to move. Struggling, you push yourself up on all fours, and force your eyes open, and almost instantly regret it.   
  
The room itself feels like it's spinning and there's a weird, dull hum surging through your body, almost like the base on a stereo that's been turned up too high.   
  
As your eyes begin to adjust to the darkness, you're able to make out a few details. The room, if it can even be called that, that you've woken up in is...it's not right. Aside from the weird hum vibrating through your body, there's an unknown source of light that illuminates a small portion of the room, but the rest just...fades off. It's like there's no end, like it goes on forever.   
  
Slowly, you stand up and wobble a little before getting your balance. “Hello?” Your voice reverberates loudly throughout the room. Somewhere in the background you can hear the faint _drip drip drip_ of water droplets. That's when you notice something bizarre.  
  
The ground beneath your feet is solid, but when you take a step it sends ripples that billow outward, almost as if you're stepping on water. What the..?   
  
Testing your theory, you jump.   
  
And sure enough it happens again. This time, however, the sound of a splash echos outward, just like if you'd actually jumped in a puddle...or a lake.  
  
“Cas?” If that thing brought you here, than he has to be here too. You refuse to think of the alternatives. “Castiel?!”   
  
It isn't until your third sweep of the room that you finally see it; far off in the distance there's a dim pillar of light, much like the one illuminating the space around you.  
  
If that's where Cas is, then that's where you'll have to go. Without any other options, you take a tentative step into the darkness.  
  
And all in a matter of seconds, everything changes.   
  
The air seems heavier, and the temperature drops a notable degree. The dull hum that vibrated throughout your body seconds ago now feels like tiny electric shocks that only get stronger as you go.   
  
In the distance a low hiss echoes through the air, and with a growing anxiety you realize it's close.   
  
That's when you break into a full on sprint, no longer cautious over what you might trip over. Was this what the others experienced in their final moments?

 

You're not about to find out. You're going to find Cas, and the two of you are going to get out of here.  
  
As you get closer you can now see a human figure laying in the middle of the light, but it looks wrong somehow.   
  
Your feet slow, what if it's not Cas?   
  
You glance behind, where you first woke up, but see the light has disappeared, and with the hissing turning into a rumbling growl and getting closer, you don't have time to second guess yourself now.   
  
You charge forward, pumping your legs as fast as you can and pray you make it in time. You've met the Devil himself and stood tall, but whatever's behind you has you seriously freaked out.  
  
Thirty feet away and you can hear it's feet pounding behind you, no more than a meter away.   
  
Fifteen feet away, and you can feel it's breath against your back, and you swear you can hear voices starting to bubble up around you- whispers just below the line of words.   
  
Ten feet away and the voices have jumped straight into screams so loud, they drown out the sound of your own racing heart.  
  
One foot away and something sharp rakes along your back, and then everything is quiet.  
  
You bend over, desperately trying to catch your breath. The dull base-like vibration is back, along with the soft _drip drip drip_ of water. The second you stepped into the light, the screams stopped, and you're finally able to look behind you...

 

And there's nothing there.   
  
The burn in your throat subsides and you reach to your back and when you pull your hand away there's fresh blood sticking to your fingers. Whatever it was, had you been just a few seconds slower, it would have torn you a new one, that's for sure. It burns like a mother fucker, and judging by the flow of blood, it definitely needs stitches. You need to find Cas first and-  
  
Your eyes go wide as they land on the man laying on the ground.  
  
It's Cas, alright, but the reason something seemed off is so plain and obvious you can't believe you didn't see it earlier, distance or no.

 

In the middle of the ground is an unconscious Cas, and other than a few bruises and cuts on his face, he seems okay.

  
What's got you so floored is the giant pair of wings splayed out next to him.   
  
In the thousands of ways you've pictured Cas' wings, they never looked like this. The feathers that are suppose glow with unearthly energy are sparse, and match the dull color of charcoal. Stray feathers stick up at odd ends and any shine they may have once had was long gone.  
  
Is this the punishment for turning his back on Heaven to help Sam and Dean? Or for the Leviathans maybe? As you move closer, it becomes pretty obvious that one is broken, one of the main bones arching inward on itself.   
  
Was he injured on his way here, or was it always like that?

 

“Cas? Are you okay?” His eyes flutter open and he lets out a groan. It takes him a minute to move, but eventually he does.  
  
“Yes, I'm fine,” he sits up, cradling his head in his hand. “How did it get you too?”  
  
“I heard you call for me and when I got to the lake, you were gone. I- I got worried and came after you.” The look he gives you has you feeling suddenly awkward. Biting your lip, you look away and hope he doesn't catch the flare of your cheeks.

  
“Did you see the mermaid when-”  
  
“Naiad.” He cuts you off.   
  
“Nai- what?”  
  
“A Naiad. It's a water nymph that inhabits fresh water.”  
  
“Naiad,” you test the word on your tongue, “whats it's deal, why's it here?”  
  
“I'm not sure as to why, but it may be due to all the garbage. A Naiads home affects their health...” he stands up and surveys the room.  
  
“So, how do you kill it? And how do we get outta here?”  
  
“It's immortal, as far as I know, and my guess is as good as yours on the second part.” He reaches his hand outward and closes his eyes in concentration. “When you woke up, did you see anything strange?” His voice echoes outward.  
  
You nod and quickly explain to him everything that happened since you woke up. He keeps his back to you the entire time, watching the darkness, on the look-out for that thing.   
  
When you finish, he finally turns to face you, his wings making a soft _swoosh._

 

“Were you able to see it?”   
  
“I- no. I can't explain it, but it felt like if I turned around I'd see something I really didn't want to. It felt like the best thing I could do was to get into the light as fast as possible.” He looks down and furrows his brow, taking in what you'd just said.   
  


As you adjust yourself, the gash on your shoulder sends a shock wave of pain through your body and you wince.  
  
Cas looks at you and the ground ripples under his steps as he makes his over to examine your wound. The light pressure of his hand on your back sends a shiver up your spine, and with it, a new wave of pain.  
  


“Ah shit, that burns like hell.”   
  
“You should have told me about this earlier.” Being lectured by an angel isn't something you'll ever get used to, no matter how right he is. “It's deep, you're lucky you haven't bled out already.”   
  
Clenching your fist, you do your best not to flinch too much as he peels away scraps of cloth from the wound before placing a strong, yet gentle hand over it. The soft tingle of his grace begins to make it's way through your shoulder, but stops short.   
  
“Everything okay?”  
  
“It seems that the Naiads power has a greater affect here, the interference on my grace is stopping me from healing your wound.” He sounds pissed. It's kind of hot in a weird way.  
  
“Hey, don't worry about it, I've had worse.” It's a lie of course, you could already feel your body starting to weaken, and you're sure your face must be pale as well.

 

“At this rate you'll die of blood loss. There's... I-” He purses his lips in frustration, then puts his other hand on your shoulder so he's got you in a lose grip. “I apologize, but I need to make sure this closes.”   
  
You're about to ask what he means, when his breath caresses your ear as he brings his mouth down to your shoulder. The heat of his breathing causes you to arch your back, and he tightens his grip on your shoulders in return before his mouth makes contact with your skin. His tongue, hot and wet against your icy flesh, sends a moan rushing up your mouth, and you bite your lip just in time to stifle it down, but– oh _fuck_.  
  
This isn't the time, and it's definitely not the place, but you can't help it. You're mind almost automatically goes to other places.  
  
Places that involve Dean...   
  
Dean's mouth trailing kisses up your thighs, while Cas works at your neck, to be more exact. You let out a sigh and pray he doesn't notice how shaky your breathing is. _  
_  
If he did, he doesn't show any signs as his tongue slowly traces the outline of your wound, leaving a cool trail behind it.

  
_while Deans lips caress the inside of your thighs..._

 

Only seconds ago your face was cold and pale with blood loss, while now it's heated and red from the warm tingle of Cas' tongue. He tightens his grip on your shoulders as you shudder under his hold.

 

... _as Deans own path leads him to the apex of your thighs..._

  
As the gash curves upward to your neck, into more sensitive turf, Cas stops and whispers roughly into your ear. “Hold still,” before going back to work.  
  
_“Be good for Cas,” Dean – his head still tantalizingly close to your center– murmurs softly as he grips tightly on your thighs, holding you in place._  
  


By now, you can feel the wetness seeping through to your underwear, and holy _shit,_ this feels amazing, but at this rate if you don't stop...  
  
Cas' tongue hits a soft spot on your neck before he comes to a close, slowly taking his lips off your skin...   
  
Where his mouth lingers, just a few seconds longer, and then the warmth is gone.

 

Sure enough though you can feel the gaping wound on your shoulder become noting more than a shallow cut as it closes up completely. “There's a scar left over, but I can take care of that when we're out of here.”  
  
“Thanks, Cas,” you're just barely able to cover up the quiver in your voice. If he heard that moan, he's not drawing attention to it, so neither should you. “Speaking of 'here,' where are we??”  
  
“Think of it as a pocket dimension. Naiads aren't Goddesses, per se, but they do possess strong supernatural abilities.” He seems so nonchalant that, for a minute, you find yourself annoyed. But what more could you possibly expect? Besides, you're the one getting all hot and bothered by him helping..

  
“What about that thing out there, is that the Naiad? Why is it afraid of the light?” You ask more as a distraction to yourself than anything.  
  
“I believe that's a guardian to protect their realm.”   
  
“Can we kill it?” He shakes his head. “So we pretty much get to be the peanut gallery while Sam and Dean get all the action?” He nods. “Well damn.”  
  
“I have faith in them,” he says as he begins to pace back and forth. Once again, you find yourself mesmerized by the back and forth sway of his wings.   
  


“Does it hurt?” It sounds like the beginning of a bad pick-up line, but the words spill out of your mouth. When he turns to you, his brows are furrowed.   
  
“Your wing. It- it looks broken, does it hurt?” He looks behind himself, then back at you.

 

“You can see them?”

 

“Yeah, they're a lot different than what I always imagined, but in a god way. They're... like – I mean....just wow.”

 

“Strange... Most humans don't have the perception to see them. It may be the Naiads power heightening your senses.” You're too busy gawking at the appendages on his back to notice the smile playing on his lips. “You seem highly amused, if I'd had known this would be your reaction I might have shown you sooner.”   
  
“What? You coulda done that? How come you didn't?”  
  
“You never asked.” He's got you there.  
  
“True enough.” Wait, did he just change the subject? Should you let him? It would be easy enough to carry on with casual conversation – and yet. “Does the other one hurt?” You couldn't let it drop.  
  
For a minute he doesn't say anything, and you think he might try and change subject again, but finally he answers. “Not anymore, no. At least not compared to what it used to.”  
  
“You mean it's not freshly broken?” He shakes his head. You're about to ask him why he never let it heal properly, and then you figure it out...   
  
He's punishing himself.   
  
Dammit _Cas._ Why does he always pull shit like that? Just ignore all the people he's helped, and only focus of the bullshit– ugh, it's the same with Dean too, just why? They both have this martyr complex, and- well... as annoying is it is, isn't that what attracted you to them in the first place?  
  
“Come here, Cas.” You pat the ground in front of you for him to sit. He does.  
  
You get up on your knees, and take a breath to calm yourself. “Let me know if I hurt you, okay?”   
  
He turns his head toward you, his brows lowered in confusion. After a moment he nods, and that's it – no other questions asked.

 

Well, here goes nothing, it may not be much, but you hope it's enough.   
  
With one last exhale, you reach up and gently place a hand on his shoulder, by the base of his wing and knead your hand into the muscle. He tenses at first, but as you readjust the pressure, he relaxes again.   
  
“It's not much, I know, but this has gotta be killin' you. Back rubs the least I can do, ya' know, to say thank you for fixin' up my shoulder.

 

“That's not necessary, that was a potentially fatal wound, this is noth-”

 

“Cas, please.” _Please let me help, I hate knowing you're hurting and that there ain't shit I can do about it'_ is what you want to say.   
  
“Don't say it's nothing. Just let me say thank you, okay?” Is what comes out instead.   
  


He doesn't answer, but he doesn't pull himself away either. Let's just take that as a green light.

 

His muscles are taut with stress, and although you're no masseuse, you're having no trouble working out the kinks. Slowly but surely he starts relaxing under your touch, and a twinge of pride pulls at your mouth.

 

“There, all done. That wasn't so bad, was it?” You sit back on your knees while Cas, still perched in front of you, rolls his shoulder to stretch out the muscle.   
  
Idly watching him, you absent-mindedly reach up and brush your fingertips along the arch of his wing.

 

Almost as soon as your hand makes contact, Castiels whole body shivers and his back arches as a soft sound mixed between a gasp and a moan break past his lips.

 

“Shit, Cas, I'm sorry, I didn't think I'd hurt you, are you okay?!”  
  
“No, no...not pain. It just,” he trails off. He has this look in his eyes, one that makes your heart do a back flip. “...just surprised me, that's all.”  
  
But something about that sound, and the way his body reacted to your touch...  
  
“Cas?” Your voice falters – if you're wrong and you ask this question anyway, things are gonna get weird. But by this point, you don't care anymore. It's been how long now that you've been pretending you don't care for either men?  
  
Answer: Too damn long.  
  


Hell, you're pretty sure Deans got it bad for Cas just like you, so maybe, when the two of you are out of this mess...hm, you doubt it, but dreaming never hurt anyone.   
  
Just do it, quick, like a band-aid, “Cas, does that turn-”

The light flickers.

 

Once.

 

Twice.  
  
Aaaand now it's dark. Shit.  
  
“That can't be good.” You're both on your feet in an instant, Cas has his back pressed against yours to cover any blind spots. Funny thing about that though is, that in darkness like this, everything is a freaking blind spot.  
  
“Stay close and tell me if you hear or see anything.” You hear the rustle of his coat as he goes for his angel blade. You hear his escalated breathing as adrenaline edges him on. Hell, you even hear your own heart beating under the tension in the air.   
  
But then you hear the whispers.  
  
“Cas?” Your voice has an edge to it, you never were a fan of things you couldn't see.  
  


“I hear it too, come on, we need to move.” He grabs blindly for your wrist and pulls you forward. “Hold on to me, we can't lose each other.” It's pitch black, and you can't even see Cas, whose no more than two feet ahead of you. He's right; the two of you can't afford to get separated.  
 _  
_ “You think the boys got to it?” The whispers are beginning to get louder already, and you have to yell over them.   
  
“I hope so. That would explain this whole situation.” His voice sounds muffled, despite how loud he's talking.  
  
He stops abruptly ahead of you, and you to slam into him.  
  
“Whitewater's going on out there, it's using up too much power. If this keeps up, the place is going to implode.” He's right; you can see the darkness moving, kind of folding in on itself. “Come on, we have to get moving. If we can stay out of the Guardians reach long enough, we should be able to escape.” He grabs for your arm and you're back to sprinting through the darkness.  
  
Not even thirty feet ahead and the two of you are forced to stop again. All around you the walls are crumbling, almost as if it's trying to trap you in. Behind you the guardians footsteps are echoing closer and the whispers are starting to cross the line into screams. You grip your blade tightly and turn around. Whatever it is, it isn't going to get you without a fight, and you're not about to die before you can see this whole Cas/Dean thing through.  
  
As soon as you do turn, before you even see it, it's gone. Where the-  
  
The wind is knocked out of you as something slams into you – something big. It sends you flying into Castiel and you both are thrown backwards. As you land, a burning sensation sears the left side of your body as you skid across the rough ground.   
  
The minute your body stops sliding, the guardian grabs you by your hair and lifts you up before throwing you into the wall nearby. A paralyzing white light bursts through your vision as you make contact with the wall, and you can't even protect yourself as your body falls to the ground.

 

With blurred vision, you look up in time to see Cas charging at the guardian, a rippling black mass, with his angel blade poised to strike.   
  
And it disappears again, just vanishes completely.  
  
Cas spins so his back is to you, his blade still at the ready, as he scans the area to make sure the threat is gone. As your vision clears you notice his outstretched hand, and you grab it. “Are you okay to move?”   
  
He pulls you to your feet, and something in your chest cracks as you straighten up, causing you to cry out in pain and fall back to your knees. Luckily Cas is there to soften your fall, “Here, let me carry you.”  
  
“No, no, s'okay, I'll be fine,” you gently push him away as he tries to lift you. As much as you'd love to be that close to him, you're not about to be the damsel in distress.  
  
“Broken rib never slowed me down before,” you try your shot at a reassuring smile. “Lets get going before it comes back.” What the hell's taking Sam and Dean so long?  
  
As you start to limp toward the next pillar of light, a strong arm wraps around your torso to support you. A quick smile is the best way you can think to say thank you as the two of you move on.   
  
About half way there, the rustle of feathers catches your attention as he drapes his wing over your shoulder.   
  
An overwhelming sense of gratitude sweeps over you as you realize it's always like this; even with Dean. They both know that you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, and yet they both always got your back.

 

“Cas... You and Dean are always looking out for me, even if it's my own dumb ass that got myself in trouble. I appreciate it, I really do and, I just- what I mean is- ah hell.”   
  
Just get to your point.   
  
“Thank you, Cas. Seriously. I'm shit at showing it, but you guys are amazing.”  
  
He breaths out a laugh and gives your arm a reassuring squeeze. “We both care about you, so we do what we do because we want to. Don't worry about how to repay us, or thank us, it's what family do.”  
  
“Heh, yeah, I guess you're right. Almost got stabbed, crushed, burned, or some other shit-tastic thing for you guys enough times, I think we're even anyway.” You try not to swell too long on the 'family' part.

 

Why couldn't you just fall for a nice doctor, or maybe even a lawyer? Settle down, have a nice white picket fence, with a nice yard, and hell, maybe even a cat or dog.

 

Nice and normal. Wouldn't that be nice? A normal life?  
  
Pfft, who you kiddin? That would bore the ever loving hell outta you. You'd pick this fucked up love triangle any day of the week.

  
As you both make it to the safe zone, you do a quick once over to check for broken bones, and – ow! Yup, definitely have a few broken ribs going on.  
  
“Will you be okay until we can get out of here?”   
  
“I should be,” you try for confident, but the spinning in your head hasn't settled down yet. Might have to add 'concussion' to the list of shit to worry about too. “You said this place is falling apart, right? I don't think we're gonna find a way out sitting around on our asses, we need to make a run for it before it goes black again.” Slowly, you stand up and try to straighten yourself out, “I think I saw something over- AGH!” You're cut off by your own scream of pain as the broken bones in your chest grind against each other, making an audible _crunch_.   
  
It's then that you notice a warm trickle coming down your forehead, and when you pull your hands away, they're slick with blood. Castiel is already next to you before you can protest.   
  
“You can't run like this, let me look.” He kneels next to you, grabs your chin and lifts your face up to his own. He's only trying to get a better look at the gash on your forehead, you know that, but even then. The intensity of his gaze has you growing hot, and it might be the broken rib talking, but you're feeling a little breathless too.  
  
He lays his other strong, calloused hand on your cheek, and you can't help but to lean against it's warmth, a strong contrast the the chill of your surroundings. His face is so close to yours that with just a tilt of your head your lips would meet.  
  
Using his thumb, he gently wipes the blood off your brow and then dips his head low, your noses brushing as he rests his forehead on yours.   
  
Every part of your skin that's touching his lights up. From the mound of your forehead, down to the bridge of your noses, you can feel it. Like tiny electric shocks bouncing between the two of you. His eyes close and a crease forms in his brow as he concentrates.

 

The familiar tingle of his grace streams it's way into the cut on your forehead, closing it up in seconds. He lingers, and you find yourself almost begging for him not to pull away.   
  
And he doesn't.  
  
“I'm sorry if I hurt you.” His lips tickle as they brush lightly against yours while he speaks, sending your heart into a frenzy: _tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump._ Total cliché, but you swear it feels like your hearts in your stomach, is this what they mean when they talk about butterflies?

 

With his head still resting upon yours, his index finger caresses your chin as he pulls his hand away.  
  
And places is on your hip, at the hem of your shirt.

 

Your eyes shoot open to find him already looking back at you. His razor blue eyes pierce right through you, shooting quivers between your thighs. With a substantial amount of self-control you didn't even know you had, you manage to stay perfectly still, despite the growing ache sprouting between your legs.  
  
His other hand slides down to your neck as his thumb strokes the soft outline of your jaw. His fingers fumble at the hem of your shirt, and past the casual way he's looking at you, his eyes hint at something else.

 

“You gotta be getting tired of doing this so many times,” that chuckle at the end was supposed to sound carefree, maybe even confident, but instead something closer to an awkward snort rushes out of your mouth.

  
The warmth of his hand as it makes contact with the bare skin of your side causes your hips to buck forward, only a fraction of an inch, but too much none the less.   
  
You grab onto the lapel of his coat and squeeze your eyes close, praying he mistakes your twitching for pain instead of the burning need you're actually feeling. If only those hands were undressing you for other reasons.

 

_Concentrate! He's trying to fix your damn broken ribs, so the two of you can get out of this hell hole. You can have some personal alone time later, but for right now, you gotta get your shit together._   
  


And yet...   
  
His hands slowly make their way up the side of your body, his fingertips caressing your skin along the way.  
  
As his hand makes it to your midsection, he stops. He's got you in such a daze you're barely aware as his thumb swipes over the bottom of your lip, parting them slightly.

 

A soft whimper escapes your lips he pulls his head away from yours, and when you open your eyes you're met by his unwavering gaze yet again.  
  
“If you keep making those noises, you're going to give me the wrong idea.” It barely registers in your head to be embarrassed before he dips his head down low and places his mouth over the broken rib, just below your breasts.

 

The shock of his cool mouth so close to such a sensitive area sends you over the edge. Your back arches and this time you don't even bother to stifle the moan. An electric tingle hums into your body, and rather it's Cas' grace or Cas himself you can't tell. It spreads upwards, climbing the mound of your breast and stopping at the tip of your now hardened nipple.   
  
You're not sure how much longer you can keep yourself in check, hell, you're not ever sure you want to try. _Cas, please, just- fuck. I need you now..need you so bad._  
  
With a groan, his hand slips around your waist and pulls you forward so you're now straddling his lap, and that's when you feel it.   
  
The hard bulge pressed against your thigh.

 

Your hands dig into the shoulder of his jacket, and- _ah fuck._ “Cas, p-please,” you moan into his ear and that only seems to spur him on. The tip of his tongue skirts along your skin as he lightly sucks a mark onto your chest.  
  
He pulls his mouth away and the warmth of his breath travels up your body as he sets a trail of kisses to the center of your chest.   
  


And just as suddenly as he started, he stops.

 

“I-I'm sorry. I didn't-” he's stumbling over his words and it's absolutely adorable.  
  
“N-no, it's not all you, I could have...you know-.” You know the words you want to say, but can't figure out how to say them through the daze you're in.   
  
He's still looking up at you with hunger in his eyes, that much you can tell, but there's something else behind it all. It's the same look you know reflects in your own eyes at the face of rejection. It's that look that makes you add, “..but I'm glad I didn't..”  
  
“I...” he clears his throat, “I'm glad you feel that way, but still, I apologize. When you start making those sounds, and having those thoughts, I just-”

 

Wait, what?   
  
“You can read my thoughts?”  
  
“I don't mean to, no, but sometimes they're just projected to me. I never knew if it was intentional or not at first, but after a while I assumed it wasn't...but it's very erotic.” He quickly adds, “Sexy, I think is a better term, actually.”  
  
Directed at him? Like praying? Holy shit, does that mean-  
  
“You're projecting them directly to me, not as a general prayer, so no, other angels don't hear them.”

 

“Well, there's a plus,” a sigh of relief escapes your mouth. The last thing you needed was all of Heaven knowing you waned to fuck their most wanted. But...how much _does_ he know?   
  
Oh god.  
  
Holy shit.  
  
What if knows about Dean too?  
  
Relax, breath, you'll deal with all that later, or, hopefully never. Right now something bigger just came up.   
  
“Whats that?” You get off his lap and point off in the distance. “Is that a door?” As you speak a giant tremor shakes the ground and nearly knocks the two of you back over. In the distance splashing water and what sounds like falling rock can be heard.

 

“It's Sam and Dean. Let's go, we have to leave.” A loud growl echoes somewhere close, really close. “Let's go!” He grabs your arm and pulls you straight into a run.  
  
The two of you book it toward the door, carried by adrenaline and the promise of escape. All around you the blackness seems to be crawling as it disappears into nothing. What happens if you guys don't make it to that door, isn't something you want to find out.

 

Despite all the bad shit, the broken bones and dark bruises, you're happy, hell ecstatic even.   
  
As you make it closer to the door, your surroundings get lighter and lighter and by the time the two of you make it through the threshold, a blinding light burns your retinas.   
  
“Hey! C;mon,wake up!” Someone's patting you on the face and you first instinct is to swing, but your arms feel too heavy. With way too much effort, you open your eyes and the first thing you see is the orange tinted sky as morning sneaks over the valley.  
  
The second thing is a sight to remember. Dean freaking Winchester, bruised and bloody, but alive.  
  
You look over and see Cas, already conscious, soaking wet, and holding his probably pounding head; you know yours is. You study him, and with disappointment, realize you can no longer see his wings– well, hell.  
  
Slowly you become more aware and notice that you're soaked too. Not only that, but your mouth tastes of lake water and your lungs burn like a motherfucker.  
  
“God dammit, finally. She's okay, Sammy!” Dean yells over his shoulder to Sam, whose no worse for wear than Dean.   
  


You shiver from the cold, and Dean runs off and returns seconds later with a spare jacket and hands it to Cas before taking off his own and throwing it over your shoulders. The comforting smell and leftover warmth help you gather yourself.

  
That's when you notice the sheriff, just as beat up as the rest of you, sitting in her squad car.  
  
“What the hell did I miss? How long were we gone for?”  
  
Turns out; a while.   
  
While you and Cas were off running for your lives, Sam and Dean were left to fight the Naiad. That's when the sheriff showed up, apparently some kids saw the four of you snooping and called the cops. That's when they got the whole story.  
  
Turns out, the Naiad _was_ pissed. It's home had been turned into a landfill and it's sisters slowly died off, leaving only her alone.  
  
Queue big fight where the Winchesters and Sheriff Geodwall get their asses kicked before realizing they can't win.

 

Long story short; the Sheriffs going to petition to get the lake turned into private property, and starting next week, some teenage thieves are gonna come by and clean up for community service hours.   
  
Not the solution you were expecting, but, hey, how often is it you see things come out to a happy ending and not a blood bath? Naiad gets it's home back, and a bunch of shitheads learn their lesson.

 

\---------------

 

Something seemed off about Dean, and while you debated about asking him, you decided it was best to wait until he came to you. No point in trying to make a Winchester talk when he doesn't want to.  
  
Turns out you didn't have to wait long at all. While Sam and Cas are still talking to the Sheriff – giving her the 'the boogeyman is real' talk – that leaves you and Dean alone in the Impala.  
  
You reach over from the passenger seat and ramp up the heat, it's gonna be a long while before your clothes dry and you're not about to freeze. That's when he finally let's loose.  
  
“So, uh, what happened down there, really? Cas told me about that thing, the Guardian, but I wanna know the details.” It wasn't an accusation, but genuine curiosity. “Said you broke a few bones down there too, that thing musta been one son of'a bitch to kick your ass.” He laughs, but it seems awkward and misplaced.  
  
You're not sure how to answer. You still don't know if what you _think_ you heard that night is _actually_ what you heard. Cas and Dean mean so much to you, and the last thing you wanted was to hurt either of them. Hell, if turned out they had a thing for one another, you'd gladly step back so they could be happy.

 

He's still waiting, so you answer the best way you could, the way that'll buy yourself some time.

 

With the shake of a head and a smile, you say: “If you want _that_ story, you owe me a six pack, at minimum.”

 

 


	2. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You promised give Dean all the dirty little details of what went on in the Naiads Den in exchange for a six pack.
> 
> He delivers his end, now the question is, what will happen when you deliver yours?
> 
> Glorious threesome smut!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Use of the word 'cunt.' Personally, I love it. Some don't, oh well. Enjoy anyway~!  
> Also, for some reason the paragraphs don't want to format correctly on the site, so sorry for wonky spacing between paragraphs.
> 
> First fanfiction, first smut, critiques are more than welcome! :)

It's been a pretty stressful two weeks. Between the awkward tension with Cas, and the weird glances from Dean, you were at your wits end.  
  
Well, to be fair, Cas hasn't actually been around that much, but still, your point remains. On the off chance he wasn't out searching for new leads on Amara, he was usually in the bunker.

He wouldn't say much, and the tension you knew you both felt was more than enough to freak you out.

Which is why you've been avoiding him as much as possible without making it obvious you were.

It would be easy enough to just sit down and talk with him. Hell, you tried to a few days after you all got back, and it seemed like he wanted to too, but in the end you just couldn't. How could you be with him while you still had such strong feelings for Dean? 

What's worse, is you had good reason to believe Dean had something going on for Cas as well. Who were you to get in between that, especially after all the shit they've gone through? They needed the 'happily ever after' fairy tale ending more than you.

Besides, your happily ever after can just consist of getting off to the two of them banging. Everybody's happy, right?

  
As for Dean, he might not have asked again directly about what happened in the Naiads' realm between you and Cas, but he doesn't need to. The looks he keep shooting your way say it all. It's possible you're just over analyzing it all. Maybe your self-gratifying fantasies are getting in the way of reality and you imagined the whole night in a drunken haze.

Or maybe you're right and Dean wants to bang Cas just as much as you do, and _just_ maybe, Cas secretly wants it to.  
  
Ugh, all this is making your head hurt. It's not something you want to deal with, not ever, and you know eventually you'll have to...  
  
But not just yet.  
  
The bunker's empty and you're finally alone with your thoughts. The left the other day to go meet Crowley to check out some new info on the Darkness. Supposedly one of Crowleys minions know someone who was close to Lucifer before he was caged up. Might have some info on how they sealed Amara away in the first place.  
  
You, on the other hand, decided to stay behind and catch some much needed alone time. With all the shit that's been going on lately, you could use some breathing room.

You have to admit, it was pretty damn nice.  
  
At least at first it was, anyway.

**A** **nything yet?** You send the text to Dean.

After about thirty minutes and no reply, you toss the cell down and decide to do some reading.

Which only lasts about an hour before you get bored. Maybe catch up on shows? You're pretty behind, now that you think about it.

Yeah, sure, okay. Nothing like some mind melting television to pass the time.  
  
Halfway through the episode and you're still fidgeting. Damn, who would have thought you'd get this tired of relaxing? It's not like you get much time to yourself these days to just sit around and do nothing, you should be enjoying it. You should-

_bzzt. Bzzt._ You should check your text messages.

**Trap, couple a Crowleys goons thought it'd be a good idea to switch sides, thought they'd score some brownie points with Amara by killin' Crowley and nabbing us.**

_Bzzt. Bzzt._ Another text from Dean.

**Can't say I expected much else. Sounded sketchy from the get go.**

**Shit, everyone okay?** You send the text.  
  
Go figure, something _would_ happen the one time you decide to sit one out.

**Few bumps and bruises here an' there. Nothing big, how's things there?**

You send him an skull emoji with the text: **Bored to death. So what now?  
**  
A lot was ridding on this lead. You guys are running out of options, and there has to be another way other than getting Lucifers help. Unleashing the pure unadulterated definition of 'evil' is one thing, but asking it's slightly less threatening counterpart for help? That's the epitome of reckless.  
  
Yet it's starting to look more and more like the only option you guys have. **Anymore leads, or total dead end?** You hit send.

After about ten minutes of waiting you set your phone down and try watching some more T.V.  
  
But no matter how much you try not to, you still find yourself waiting for a reply

And waiting.

...and waiting.

...and waiting...

Damn, you _really_ need to get a hobby. Something to do in your free time so you don't do...well, _this._

Still feeling fidgety, and pretty sure you won't be hearing anything anytime soon, you hop up and decide to do some cleaning. It's been a while anyway.  
  
After a couple hours passed, and you feel the bunker is an acceptable level of clean, you check your phone again. Still nothing.

With nothing more left to do, you grab a beer and sit down to play some games. You've done just about everything else to try and alleviate the boredom, maybe this will do the trick.

Three beers down and about two hours wasted does the trick. Since becoming a hunter, you haven't had much time to play any games, so it's a nice change of pace, but still. You missed the company of real people.

Maybe, if you're lucky they'll be home sometime before nightfall and you won't have to deal with yourself anymore.  
  
Deciding to make yourself a snack, you head down the long hallway and into the kitchen to make something quick for yourself. Digging through the freezer you find a microwavable pizza, but not much else. Beggers can't be chooser. Grabbing the pizza, you close the door and thats when you hear a soft thud from the other room.  
   
Almost like someone bumping into the table.  
  
You strain your ears to see if you hear anything else, but it stays quiet. Most people would chalk it up to their mind playing tricks on them and leave it at that...  
  
But then again, most people don't hunt demons in their spare time.  
  
As quietly as you can, you make your way back into the main hall and check all the rooms as you go along.  
  
Pantry– clear.  
  
Library – clear.  
  
Bathroom – clear  
  
By this point, you're pretty sure you're looking for an escape from boredom and not an intruder, but your paranoia pushes you to check everywhere. You've been ambushed off guard before, and you're not about to let it happen again in your own home.

Tip toeing your way down the hall, you peek into the last unchecked room.  
  
And see Dean Winchester reclining on the couch, a cold beer in his hand.  
  
“Jesus, Dean, give me a warning before you show up outta nowhere.” You come out from behind the corner and step into the room.  
  
He leans his head back on the couch to look at you with a lazy grin plastered on his face. “ Hey, I live here too, princess. C'mon,” he grabs a beer and holds it out for you. “Pretty sure I remember somethin' 'bout a six pack and a story.”

You knew he'd spring it on you eventually, you just thought you'd have a day or two to plan out what you were going to say before he even got back.

  
“What I meant was, why are you back so soon? And what about Sam and Cas?” Act like you didn't hear him, buy yourself some time.

  
“Took some case couple hours east of here.” You take the can. He cracks open his own and takes a good swig of it.

Of course you could just lie to him, say nothing happened...but then again, it's the perfect opportunity to ask about the night Cas left, and if he was plastered, maybe he'd be more open to talking? Worth a shot.

“What about?” You bring the can to your lips, take a small sip.

And besides, maybe he wouldn't remember it the next day?  
  
He shrugs his shoulders, and in a very blasé tone, replies: “Husbands cheating wife goes missing from a hotel room. The dude she was with that night claims she was taken by a woman who 'vanished into thin air.' So either the the Mrs ran off with mystery man, husband dressed in drag and kidnapped his wife, or some pissed off dead broad doesn't take kindly to cheaters. My money is on option number one.”  
  
“So you don't think it's a haunting? Why not?”

But you know the only way you'd get him drinking that much is if you gave him a good story...

“No real reason. Call it a sixth sense, intuition, whatever ya want, just got a feeling.” He gives you a pointed look then gestures to the couch again. “And don't think changing the subjects gonna work. I got you a six pack, you give me a story. Spill the goods, kid.”

So much for stalling. At least you got a good buzz going on already, make this shit easier.  
  
“Okay well, what do you know?”  
  
“The basics. You 'n Cas got stuck in some weird mini world, and got chased around by some creep.” He's already finished off the last of his beer, and reaches over for another.

“Well, did you hear that I saw Cas' wings?” You study him carefully, trying to gauge his reaction. Start out with small details. Wait for the booze to catch up to him before getting to the dirty bits.  
  
“No shit. How?” He seems genuinely surprised. “Can't say I was never curious myself.”

“He said the Naiads power affected me, made me more perceptive or something like that. They were... I don't know, not what I expected. I always thought they'd be these amazing, powerful things, you know stuff they have you believing in church, but,” you try to search for the right word through the alcohol induced fog. “They were falling apart. I mean, they're...fuck, they're beautiful, in this weird, haunting sort of way, but the feathers...they practically all fell out and the color – all dim and black.”  
  
You turn your attention to Dean, and it's obvious you've got his full attention. “Dammit Dean, you should have seen 'em. The one looked broken...when I asked him about it he said...well, he didn't say anything, but knowing Cas...”

  
“Playing the martyr.” You nod and he hands you another beer as you finish yours.

You're both quiet for a minute, and as you're searching for the right words to say, the tab off a beer can comes flying your way.  
  
“Heard you got the piss beaten outta you.” Deans got his cocky half-grin splayed across his mouth.

You lash your foot out and playfully kick his leg. “I couldn't even see the damn thing. Was pitch black in there, except for these weird pillars of light. For whatever reason the-” what was it that Cas called it? Ah, yeah, “the guardian, wouldn't go near-”

“Guardian?”  
  
“Yeah, name says it all. Never really got a good look at the thing. Just a big, black hulking shadow as far as I know.”  
  
The booze is pushing you past a buzz, and it takes you a minute to remember where you left off. “Oh, yeah. Well, anyway, we were making a run for it and hit a dead end and it just slammed into me, didn't even see it coming. Went flying like I weighed an ounce and broke a rib on landing.” You bring a hand to your chest, where the broken rib was. Of course it's nothing more than a fading bruise by now, Cas had made sure of that.

  
Would now be an okay time to go into detail? A little voice in the back of your head asks the same question as it had a hundred times before. What happened that night Cas left, what was it exactly that you heard? It was something you needed to know first.  
  
How the hell do you go about asking someone – a straight someone- if they've got the hots for a man, though? Deans a ladies man, that's for sure. Would he get pissed?  
  
Just go for it.  
  
“Dean I gotta ask you someth-”  
  
“You scared me, you know. Had me all sorts of freaked out when I saw you jump in that lake after that thing took Cas.” You knew he'd be worried before you even took a step in, but hearing him say it – hearing the way he says it, sounding so small, it sends a a pang of guilt through you.  
  
“I know, and I'm sorry. I didn't really think about it, I just went.” You lean towards him and give him a playful nudge, your shitty attempt try to lighten the mood. “Don't tell me you wouldn'ta done the same thing. It's not exactly a secret that you've got a raging case of 'Hero Complex.'”  
  
“Yeah, _I_ would have. It's different when it's you and Cas.” He tosses the empty can on the table and buries a hand in his own hair. “You three, you Cas and Sammy, you're all I got and I can't lose any of you.”  
  
You're heart flutters as you realize what he's saying. Of course you always knew Dean worried about you, but hearing him say it out loud, well, it was nice. More than nice, actually.

 

It also raises more questions though. What does he mean by can't lose you? Lose you as friends, as partners, or maybe, even, as more?  
  
It could be the sixth can of beer you're on giving you liquid courage, but you scoot a few inches closer and rest your head on his shoulder. The warmth of his body sends shivers through you, and his scent is an aphrodisiac. God, what you wouldn't give to be able to bury yourself in his arms.  
  
“I'm sorry.” It's just above a whisper, but it's all you can manage. “I just had to make sure nothin' happened to Cas.”  
  
He hasn't pushed away yet. Maybe that's a good sign? Growing bolder, you let the booze speak again. Fuck it. “I'da done the same if it was you.”

 

He lets out a soft chuckle and leans back into the couch, suddenly calmer. “You sure know how to make a man feel special, better not be taking advantage of me being drunk.”  
  
You haven't moved your head from where his shoulder once was, and when you do finally turn to look at him, the heat behind his gaze makes you second guess if it was a joke or not.  
  
Alcohol makes us do some pretty stupid, crazy shit. Turns out you're no exception to this.  
  
Before you let yourself rethink things through, your mouth is against his and holy shit is it glorious. You've heard it in movies, and read it in books that a kiss can take you to new highs, but from past experience the hype never held up in the real world – until now.  
  
A sharp hiss of surprise escapes his mouth before you feel his hands slide up your body, one knotting itself in your hair while his other hand grabs your leg and pulls you onto his lap so you're straddling him.  
  
The tip of his tongue glides against your lips, parting them slightly before he slips his tongue inside. The taste of booze on his tongue is strong, but theres a sweet undertone that drives you wild.  
  
His wide hand glides smoothly up your thighs to your ass where he uses the leverage to grind your hips against the growing bulge in his pants, pulling a soft moan from your lips. 

Throwing caution to the wind, your own hands find their way into his short hair, desperately for something to grab. Your hips are moving on their own accord now, in tandem with his, grinding against each other. Your shorts bunch up under the friction, adding to the pressure on your clit.

In one swift motion he stands and pins you against the wall, holding you up with the force of his body, a cocky grin painting those amazing lips of his. You wrap your legs around him for extra support.

Your eyes are locked for a minute and you can only imagine how you must look: out of breath, disheveled and a needy haze blossoming in your eyes.  
  
“Dean. . .please.” Your begging draws a smug grin on his face. It's not one you've ever seen before, but shit, is it sexy. Still grinning he clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth and shakes his head.  
  
“Not until I say.” he dips his head down to your chest, and in a fluid motion undoes the top button of your shirt with only his teeth, exposing the upper part of your breasts.

His breath feels hot against your skin, and you arch your back at the cool touch of his lips right below your collar bone.  
  
He plants another light kiss at the base of your neck.  
  
And another just below your ear.  
  
“Ya' know, Cas and I had a nice long chat on the ride over.” His voice is low, each word sends a hot breath that caresses your neck. “He told me your neck is alittle-” you let out a soft moan as he nips lightly at the side of your neck, just below your jawline, “sensitive.”  
It takes you a minute to register what he just said. Cas told him what now? Thats when, through the haze you finally notice Castiel leaning against the wall in the doorway, his eyes glued to the two of you.  
  
“Cas?! Wait, what are you two going at here?”

Your eyes must betray your surprise, because Dean stumbles for words. “He told me what happened. Between you the two of you, 'bout the things you saw.” Behind Dean Cas makes his way over, slipping out of his coat and loosening the tie around his neck.

“I told him what I saw in your mind, the memory of Dean the night the two of you drank. You're...confusion about your feelings for us.” Cas elaborates on Deans messy explanation.

So he did catch that part about Dean...and now even Dean knows about it. You suddenly want to hide, but your curiosity won't let you, a twisted part of you wants to hear the rest.

“It lead to a pretty long heart to heart between the two of us,” Dean continues, lowering you down gently. “Turns out we're all kind of stuck in this little triangle. Have been for longer than any of us like to admit.”  
  
“So then what I heard that night was exactly what it sounded like?” Dean nods. “And uhm...Cas? When you were working on the gash on my back...did you see,uhm...” you can't bring yourself to say the words out loud.

“See you fantasying about Dean? Yes.”  
  
“Oh...well- shit.” Talk about embarrassing. “Soooo....what? You two are a thing now?” The question felt awkward leaving your lips, but a part of is praying they say yes.

“I don't know about that,” it's Dean that answers. “I mean- I never thought I swung this way, is what I'm trying to say. Hell, even this,” he gestures to the three of you, “is new territory for me.”

“What Dean is trying to say is that he would- ... _we_ would like it if you were a part of this. It's you that brought us together.”

You already know that this is what you want, what you've wanted for a really long time now, but it's Deans next words that really seal the deal.

  
“Look,” He takes a step closer and gently lifts your chin with his hand so you're looking directly at him. “I know it's weird, hell, it's weird for me, but Cas and I, we...we care about each other, and we both really care about you. Now, I don't have mind reading powers like Cas, but I know you care 'bout us, and what just happened earlier, and with you an' Cas before, well, that's all I need to know you want us like we want you.”

“I- shit.” How could you say no to that? “Yeah... yeah I do.”  
  
“Glad to hear it.” Dean is still close enough that you can feel his breath brush your skin when he speaks. For a moment the three of you are just standing there, staring at each other, wondering what to do next.

Looks like someones gotta get the engine rolling, and if it won't be one of them, it'll have to be you. Booze has gotten you this far, might as well let it take you all the way.  
  
You grab into the collar of Deans shirt and pull him down where your lips meet once again. Not like before, raw and full of need, but slow,full of passion.

He responds immediately, parting his mouth open to let your tongue sneak inside. His hands find their way back to your waist as his hips press against yours.

Cas's hair grazes your arm as he leans his head down to nip softly at Deans neck, causing a soft moan you more feel than hear on his lips.  
  
Reaching behind Dean you grab the angels hands and slowly guide them, resting one on Deans hip and the other to reach around and settle on your ass.  
  
He squeezes as Deans lips leave yours to nip and suck at your neck, leaving light marks upon your flesh. One of Cas's fingers sneaks it's way under your shorts, lightly grazing your already wet sex, and you dig your nails into Deans shoulder, trying to hold back a sound.  
  
“Hey Cas, what'ya say we take this somewhere else?” Dean whispers into your neck. The world around you fades into black for a split second, nothing more than a blink as the three of you are transported into Deans room.  
  
You blink a few times, getting used to the dimmer lighting and lean back to feel hard muscle against your back. It's then that you realize you're seated between Cas's legs, your shorts gone leaving the cool fabric of Deans sheets pressed against your bare ass.  
  
Cas's hands snake their way around your waist where his rough fingers trail lightly up your stomach, lifting your shirt up as he goes. The palms of his hand cup each of your breasts, he gives them a soft, teasing squeeze.  
  
“Cas...shit,” You moan as your back arches into his touch, pleading for more.  
  
As your eyes finally adjust you notice Dean on his knees in front of you, his shirt already gone while he rubs his bulging dick through the denim of his jeans, obviously enjoying the scene in front of him.  
  
Cas lightly nips at your ear, his breath trailing down your neck. “Is this what you wanted?” His voice comes out as a breathless whisper as he runs his thumb roughly along your nipple, pinching lightly. Jesus, fuck, if only he knew.  
  
Deans hands slide up your legs, pushing them apart along his way. His hot mouth makes contact at your hip as he kisses his way up to your exposed breasts, where the tip of his tongue flicks against your nipple. Not even bothering to hide it anymore, you throw your head back onto Cas's shoulder as a moan bursts from your mouth.  
  
His tongue lightly grazes your nipple as he takes it into his mouth, and sucks. “Shit! Dean...ahh” His teeth lightly pinch your nipple, grinding against it with the slightest bit of pressure, the small sting of pain only adding to the pleasure.  
  
Pleasure short lived as his mouth is gone while he redirects his attention to Castiel. With Dean hovering above you, their lips meet and Cas's hand wraps itself in Deans hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss. A low groan escapes Dean as Cas catches his lower lip between his teeth, sucking it lightly before pushing his tongue into the other mans mouth.  
  
Still with your back resting against Castiels chest, you tilt your head over and begin to nip and suck at his neck, leaving little red marks along his skin, each one eliciting a groan of pleasure. What other kind of sounds could you pull from those lips of his?  
  
With only one way to find out, you reach behind and palm at the throbbing bulge painfully trying to push it's way out of his pants. His hips instinctively twitch into your palm, desperate for more, and who are you to deny?  
  
With ease you undo the button of his pants, surprised to feel he doesn't wear underwear. His thick shaft barely fits into your hand and you begin to slowly stroke it, aching to hear him beg you for more.  
  
Your name comes out as a muffed moan, his mouth still pressed against Deans. “Holy shi-” his words are cut short by another moan as you thumb over the head of his dick, a thick bead of pre-cum coating the tip.  
  
With Dean hovering above you, you reach out with your mouth and catch his nipple between your lips, running the tip of your tongue across it. His body shivers visibly as you suck, lightly at first, then harder as he begins to moan.  
  
His free hand glides over your legs, feather light touch and finds it's way to the apex of your thighs, poised against your soaking wet entrance. His long finger brushes against your folds, while his thumb lightly presses against your clit. Your hips buck toward his touch pushing the tip of his digit a fraction of an inch inside.  
  
“Dean, please...I need this, I need something, I can't...” His thumb presses harder against your clit, but nothing more.  
  
“Unbutton my pants.” His lips are by your ear now, his voice low, gruff. He needs this every bit as you do. While your one hand is still busy with Cas, you use your free hand to reach forward and just as easily unhook the buttons of his pants. With a little more effort you manage to free his dick from his boxers and a ping of guilt hits you as you realize just how uncomfortable it must have been, cramped inside of those tight pants.  
  
The guilt is short lived as one rough finger enters you. Your whole body bucks into it as a loud moan rushes past your lips. Almost instantly Castiels hand shoots to your hips, pinning you down.  
  
Another finger is inserted, this time it takes a bit more effort. Castiels other hand cups your breasts, squeezing lightly while thumbing over your nipple as he reaches forward and bites down on your neck. It's a feeling like you've never felt; pain and pleasure all rolled into one overwhelming wave that rolls over your entire body.  
  
“Jesus Christ, I can't do this anymore, just fuck me, one of you, please.” In any other circumstances you'd be embarrassed at the words coming out of your mouth, but right here and right now they're nothing but truth. You've waited so long for this and it's so tantalizingly close, you can't wait anymore.  
  
“Be patient, we'll get there.” Castiels voice caresses your neck. “But for right now, you need to hold still.” His last words are punctuated by his hand pressing down harder on your hip.  
  
Deans head dips down as he takes your clit into his mouth, not even bothering to start out slow. He sucks hungrily while giving his fingers, still inside you, an experimental wiggle. He must be satisfied with how wet you are because he slowly starts to pump his fingers in and out, curling them upwards to hit your G-spot each time.  
  
The pleasure causes you to tighten your grip on Castiels dick as he hisses into your shoulder, squeezing your nipple between his fingers – hard. His lips slam into yours as Dean continues his work down below, and despite his best efforts, Cas can't hold on tight enough as your back arches into his touch. Your whole body spasms as you come undone at the combined efforts of the two men sharing the bed with you.  
  
Dean laughs as he pulls away, his fingers slick with your wetness. “Don't think that lets you off the hook, sweetheart.” He gives you a soft, loving peck on the lips.  
  
Out of breath and still twitching from the orgasm, you somehow manage, “N-not enough. I want more...” You've waited too long for this, one orgasm wasn't enough, you were going to make sure you saw it through on their behalf as well.  
  
“'Atta girl.” Dean plants another soft kiss on your forehead. “So, how do you want to do this?”  
  
You think for a moment. Of course you'd love to have them both inside you at the same time, or hell, even one of them fucking the other into you, but those are probably things to work towards, not just jump right into. Better to keep it simple - for now.  
  
Sitting up onto your knees you pull Dean in for kiss, grabbing his lip between your teeth like you saw Cas do earlier, and holy shit does the sound he makes drive you wild. While your mouths are busy you run your hand up and down his torso, trying to memorize every inch of his body, making sure to brush against his nipples every chance you have. He arches into your touch as his hands move to do the same.  
  
Behind you, Cas must be getting an amazing view of your ass as his hands suddenly come up to grope you. His middle finger slides along your sex, opening you up before he slips his finger inside. You can't do anything to stop yourself as your hips unconsciously twitch, practically riding his hand. You don't even care enough to be embarrassed by this point. You all want this, you all  _need_ this.  
  
Finally decided enough is enough, you turn around toward Cas and bring yourself onto all fours. His pants are still on, while his dick is hanging out, hard and throbbing.  You bring your lips to the tip, and his breath hitches as your tongue flickes over it, tasting the salty sweet flavor of his pre-cum. Taking what you can into your mouth, you begin to bob your head as his hand knots itself in your hair, desperate for something to hold onto. That feeling alone, seeing the pleasure you cause him just from your mouth causes your lower half to burn.  
  
As if reading your mind, Dean kneels behind you, his dick rubbing along your slit, while the other hand is on your ass for support. Desperate for more you arch your back, causing your hips to press against his throbbing cock.  
  
“Hey, easy now.” He pulls back a little to your disappointment. The sound of crinkling wrapper reminds you that he'd hadn't had a condom on, you were so lost in the haze of lust, you'd forgotten. Seconds later he's back in place, the tip of his dick at your entrance, waiting for your okay. You take as much of Cas as you can in your mouth as you can and push your hips back against Deans erection, pushing the tip past your folds.  
  
Thats all it takes as he slides himself in with ease. His hips now pressed against your ass, giving you time to adjust before he slowly pulls out and sinks back in. Moans reverberate off the walls of the small room as the three of you develop a rythem. Deans thrusts push you forward as you bob your head, aided by Cas's light thrusts of his own, pushing himself deeper into your mouth.  
  
“Fuck,” Dean mutters behind you, his hands grabbing tightly onto your hips, so hard you're guaranteed to have a few bruises later. "So tight..." With your mouth already full of Cas, the only response you can manage is a moan, the sound sending vibrations of pleasure through his pulsing dick.

How many times have you thought of this exact situation? How many nights have you spent awake, laying in bed, pretending the hands touching you weren't your own? No amount of fantasying could have prepared you for just how amazing the real deal is. The way Castiel throws his head back when your tongue glides over the right spot, the feeling of Deans fingers digging into your hips while he fucks you from behind. The realization of exactly whats happening slams into you as your already tight cunt spasms around Deans dick, pushing him over the edge.  
  
“Shiiii-” his words are cut short, a low moan taking their place as he continues thrusting into you, riding out his orgasm. Out of breath and panting his hips twitch inward once more before he slips out, leaving you feeling empty. The bed shifts as he moves his way up to the head of the bed and lays on his side, catching his breath.  
  
Castiels hand finds its way under your chin, pulling you away from his shaft with a soft _pop_. He guides your head up where your lips meet, pulling you onto his lap where his erection pokes around your thighs. Somewhere through the haze in your head, you can hear a crinkle as Dean fishes out another condom, sliding it with ease onto Castiels hardened dick.  
  
“Cas, 'm so close...please..” You need this so bad right now. His hands are back at your hips, lightly pulling you downward onto his waiting cock.  
  
His breath is a low whisper, almost a growl. “Work for it...”  
  
The words alone almost send you over the edge. You push downward, sliding him inside. He's thicker than Dean, yet it takes you only seconds to adjust to his size as you move back up, and then down again.  
  
His teeth clamp down around your neck, causing you to hiss out a low moan. Next to you Deans hands reach up, grabbing on of your nipples, pinching it between his fingers. Castiels hands help guide you, grinding your hips against his on the downswing, your clit rubbing against his lower abdomen.  
  
“Cas, ah, fuck! Dean, harder, please...” His teeth dig harder into your flesh, a sharp pain pushing you towards the peak as Deans palms at your breasts.  
  
You come hard, the spasms rendering immobile. Using the leverage on your hips, Cas thrusts upwards into you, fucking you as your own orgasm racks your body.  
  
Seconds later you can feel him twitch inside you, reaching his own climax.  
  
As the two of you finally start to climb down from the high, he holds you close and gently rolls over so your laying between the two men. Deans arm reaches around your waist, cradling you.  
  
“Dunno about you two, but I'd say that was a hit.” Dean mumbles into your neck as a plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.  
  
Cas's hand slides up your hips, resting on Deans arm where he idly carcasses his skin. “I can see why you're going on about sex, Dean. That was...no words come to mind.”  
  
“My head...brain doesn't want to work...ugh.” Was all you could manage to say, your hand trailing down Castiels arm, meeting the two mens already joined hands. “Wow..”  
  
You don't even remember closing your eyes, only the soft beating of Cas's heart in your ear, and Deans warmth at your back.  
  
And thats how the three of you stayed, Castiels protective gaze watching over the two of you throughout the night.

 

 


End file.
